


Pinstripes (Are All That They See)

by HoneySpark



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mobtale, F/M, Guns, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneySpark/pseuds/HoneySpark
Summary: A small work staring some violence, a mafia, and an amazing song.





	Pinstripes (Are All That They See)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first (official) Undertale work, so things may seem OOC and out of place and I apologize. 
> 
> The song is Pinstripes Are All That They See from the musical version of Catch Me if You Can, an excellent musical I had the chance to perform in. I highly recommend listening to the soundtrack. It's all on YouTube.
> 
> That being said, enjoy this slightly graphic fic.

The music in the speakeasy was low, calming, and non-imposing. Your boss, Grillby, had told you that the band was ready for your next song. Swirling the rest of your liquid courage, you downed the brandy and shrugged away your coat. Gingerly handing the glass to your flaming coworker, your dress swept the stage and your hands took the microphone. 

"How is everyone doing tonight?" You said, your voice soft and refined. You were responded by nods, murmurs, and even shouts of positivity. Smiling to yourself, you adjusted the height of your stand and took in a deep breath to begin the first line. The band had already begun playing, giving you the perfect entrance to your song. 

_"When your mother walked into that dancehall in_ _Montrichard_ _, what did she see?"_  

You were singing a selection from a theatrical performance that Mettaton, a regular and good friend of yours, recently starred in. It was about a conman who was able to impersonate many professions and cash over two million in fraudulent checks. It seemed odd to write a musical about such a thing, but the conman was such an intriguing, charismatic person in actuality. Yes, he existed. The musical was based off his life. 

Grillby's speakeasy was a nearly unnoticeable place, which wasn't good for business, but great for any snooping law enforcement. Once you had started working there as an entertainer, it only brought in more customers, which put the establishment on the map.  

But that wasn't anything a few bribes couldn't fix. 

Grillby's was protected by one of the strongest existing mob families: The SOULs. Grillby himself was a family friend to the Consigliere, and you yourself were a member, carrying out crimes and illegal activity on a daily basis. In fact, there was a gun strapped to your thigh right now. With the safety on, of course. Your sweeping gown hid the nasty little number. 

Even if something happened that would involve you whipping the gun out from under your dress, the Underboss, who was currently peering up at you with a grin on his face, had his eye on the place as you were performing. He was a skeletal monster with a navy blue suit and fedora to match. The only part of his clothing that wasn't dark was the bright red tie around his neck. He rested his head on his gloved hands. Wafting from him was the faint smell of the cigars he was so fond of. Sans was an interesting and frightening character. 

_"In_ _the haze of champagne, did she notice my name, or my college degree?"_  

Your leather shoes clicked against the ground, the slight heel only giving more edge to the deafening silence. Briefcase in one hand, pistol in the other, you approached today's target: a monster who was formerly a SOUL, who had gone AWOL but had been found almost as quickly as he had disappeared. Trailing behind you was Sans, who had been sent to supervise your interrogation of the defector. Not that you needed it; you had no reason to keep a squealer alive, much less betray your family's trust. 

The monster was cuffed to a chair, weakly struggling against his bonds. Smiling to yourself, his eyes had gone wide when you entered; even if he could escape the handcuffs, he couldn't outrun you plus the underboss of SOUL. "Why don't you settle down, big guy. Let's have a chat." You made the gun in your hand evident, and the monster went dead still. 

Setting the briefcase on the table, you looked him in the eyes. "Does the date April 22nd, 192X sound familiar to you? You folded your hands on the table, which were encased in pitch black gloves 

His eyes widened, his voice a quiet, nervous stutter, "T-That's the day I... was captured by the police." 

"and they let you go, just like that?" Your smile grew, and so did Sans' perpetual grin. When the monster saw this, his eyes began to water. He knew the two of you had fished out his lie already. "listen. we know your involvement with operation vantablack, plus the leaks of info. and from the information we got from other... sources, your odds of coming out unscathed from this are pretty slim. so give us the truth, and we'll spare ya. capiche?" 

His eyes centered to you, and you turned the safety off on your pistol. The monster shifted his wary gaze to you as well. 

_"_ _Kid, what she saw... was the uniform!_ _Through the dirt, and debris..._ _"_  

You swayed in tandem with the music, giving no cares to how provocative you looked to your growing audience. This was an era of conservatism in the public, but in the bowels of speakeasies, you were a lady of the evening. But no matter how many fantasies you could see brewing in the eyes of men and women alike, you belonged to only one man. To be more specific, the monster staring up at your form. You weren't sure how you captured his heart, or how he captured yours, but you were not displeased in the slightest. 

Stepping off the stage to greet your adoring fans, you were stopped by your most fond one, your knight in skeletal armor. His grin was infectious, "hey doll, I may be _sans_ ational, but you really _spoke_ to me up there." 

You chuckled, letting him slip an arm around your waist. It was his way of showing public affection, but it also said to the patrons around that you were his girl, and he was your boy. Sans was a simple monster, but you, to him, were his world beyond his brother and the family. 

As you bid Grillby a goodbye and left the bar with Sans, he led you to his car. Simple, but lavish, just like him. "hop in, doll. we don't have a lot of time before the boss and G get impatient with us." You got in the passenger side when he opened the door for you. Walking around the front, he got in himself and turned on the engine. "what was that song you were singin' in there? real catchy." 

Pulling the seatbelt and watching the car leave its parking space, you answered him, "It's called Pinstripes. It's from a musical... Mettaton would be able to tell you more." 

Sans let out a small, but audible groan. "i don't like that guy. too flamboyant, but paps adores him, so i put up with 'im." Sans stopped his small rant about the automaton, and shifted his eyes towards you. "… do ya think you could sing it again? just for me?" 

You smiled. "Why not? We have time." You gripped his hand, which was on the gear shift, and began again. 

_"Yes, those ladies gave thanks, to us visiting Yanks, 'cause pinstripes are all that they see..."_  

Your gun was pointed at the monster's head. They were begging for mercy, but their pleas were lost on you and Sans. 

They had admitted leaking the plans of Operation Vantablack, a movement that would smuggle illegal substances and people into the city to work for the family and allies throughout the country. The leak was well contained, as the officers who heard or knew the testimony were either bribed, imprisoned, or executed, some of which were committed by the skeleton watching you. 

You fell in love with such a dangerous person, but you loved the wild, you loved the rush. And by the way he spoke, you ignited a fire in him as well. 

"Any last words, rat?" Your words were cold and emotionless, lacking any empathy for the monster whose brain matter was about to splatter. They were still sobbing, but suddenly got very quiet when you spoke to them. You turned your head to Sans in questioning, who only shrugged.  

They looked up at you. Their eyes stared into yours, emotionless, yet determined. "… Go to hell, you human trash. You don't belong with monsters, so why don't you go fuck a human like you're supposed to. Breed some more." Then he defiantly spat at your immaculate shoes. 

Sans was about to step in, to defend your honor and possibly pop a bullet in the bastard's kneecap, but he was stopped by the sound of laughter. Yours. The sound pierced the otherwise sound-proofed room, and you were hunched over guffawing to the point of tears. 

It was almost to the point of maniacal, how evilly you were laughing at the monster in front of you. You lifted the pistol back to his head, holding it against his forehead. On your face was a grin that could be compared to a certain adopted child of Don Asgore. "… Haha... how funny. Yes, I may be human trash, but you'll be a filthy rat until the very end." 

You pulled the trigger, spraying the blood and viscera of the monster everywhere, until the body turned to dust before your eyes. Now it wasn't just your shoes that were ruined by the monster, your pinstriped suit was now splattered with blood and dust.  

"… that's too bad. i liked that suit on you. i'll just have to get you another one, then." Sans was cutting a cigar, before placing it against his closed teeth and lighting it. How he managed to do that, you wouldn't know. He left the room, leaving you to gather your supplies. 

You turned the safety back on your pistol, before placing it in a holster strapped to your chest. Grabbing the briefcase full of documents and photos of evidence of the monster's betrayal. Sliding it off the table, you adjusted your fedora and took one last look at the remains on the other end of the room. No regret was felt as you left, leaving only bloody footprints behind. 

_"Dine at the Latin quarters, a_ _night cap_ _at "Toot's Sh_ _or.'_ _Yeah, we're going to be at ringside, and life will be better_ _then_ _before... For two kid's in an adult's candy store~!"_  

You walked into the extravagant office of the Don, still in your formal wear from the bar. Behind the desk were two monsters; one standing and one sitting. There were others around the room as well. The one standing was W. D. Gaster, a brilliant scientist by day, but behind closed doors he was the Consigliere of SOUL. He was stiff, formal, and extremely powerful. He was also Sans' father, which made dining together very tense and judgemental on his end, and you just wanted to eat with Sans in peace. 

The monster sitting behind the desk was Don Asgore, a seemingly jolly man who wanted nothing more than to see his family thrive, like Gaster, Asgore had a life outside of the mafia. He was the mayor of Ebott City, the town where SOUL's operation was at its heaviest. His knowledge of the over and underworld put him at a severe advantage over other mob bosses and political foes. He smiled jovialy at you and Sans. 

"Good, you two are here. We can begin the meeting." Asgore motioned for he both of you to sand by where the others were gathered. Standing near you were a number of SOUL's most prominent members: Undyne, a police officer who eventually caved and joined because it kept her loved ones safe. She was the one able to secure the confession and the officers who heard of the monster you wiped out. Dr. Alphys, another scientist who works directly underneath Gaster in both his work and the mob. Papyrus, a jolly, skeletal brother of Sans and an expert sniper, though he doesn't do a lot of that anyway. He's mainly here to bring a sense of fondness to everyone. He doesn't mind this; it's what he likes to do. Mettaton, a showman robot who was outrageously famous. He brought in a lot of funding for the SOULs. 

Sitting off in the corner was Toriel, Asgore's ex-wife. While she was no longer involved with the mafia, she still held influence as was tipped into decisions by SOUL. She paraded 3 children, her son Asriel and her adopted children Chara and Frisk, human, like you. But the three weren't here right now; they were in either another room or with a babysitter. 

Gaster began, his voice monotonous as usual. "It has come to our attention that certain elements of operation Vantablack have been leaked. While action has been taken to quell the information thanks to the efforts of Sans, Undyne, and the human, we can't prevent everything from... seeping through the cracks. 

"Which brings me to the point: with the exception of madame Toriel," In which she glared at Gaster, "We are to savage the bowels of this city. If you are to hear even a _whisper_ of Vantablack, you are to apprehend, capture, or in an extreme case, execute the offender. Am I understood?" 

After synced nods and words of affirmation, Gaster allowed himself a ghost of a smile. He waved for everyone's dismissal, "Except you, human. Stay briefly, we want the details of your latest interrogation." 

Bodies began to leave the room, while you and Sans hung back. Not even a glare from the Consigliere to get him to leave his lover here. Besides, Sans was the Underboss. He could stay in for these things. "Tell us, human. Was the rat taken care of?" 

"Yes sir," You could feel the slight amusement in Gaster's otherwise empty chuckling. You continued, "He lied, confessed to leaking the entirety of Vantablack, insulted and belittled us, and then I dusted him. In that order." 

Asgore nodded, getting up from his seated position with a black clothing box in his hands. "Thank you, human. Your work is truly appreciated. This is for you, your new suit came in this morning." 

Taking the boss from Asgore, you gave him and Gaster words of thanks as they dismissed you. Walking from the room with Sans beside you. 

"so, ordered yourself a fancy new suit? shame, i would have gotten one for you." When you opened the box, he gave an impressed whistle. 

Charcoal gray, with a black vest and white undershirt. The monochrome colors were sharply contrasted by the bright red tie. But what really stood out was the design on the suit: 

**Pinstripes.**  

_"U_ _nderneath, is my uniform... All in silk, from_ _Parie_ _~_ _So_ _, fill our glasses, fly to the masses, because pinstripes are all that they see~"_


End file.
